


Scattered

by glymr



Category: DCU - Comicverse
Genre: Dunstan Thompson, M/M, Poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-10-30
Updated: 2009-10-30
Packaged: 2017-12-10 14:53:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/787292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glymr/pseuds/glymr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I have always seen him this way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scattered

**Author's Note:**

  * For [iesika](https://archiveofourown.org/users/iesika/gifts).
  * Inspired by [THIS TALL HORSEMAN, MY YOUNG MAN OF MARS](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/21138) by Dunstan Thompson. 



There is glitter in his dark hair, tiny stars of gold leftover from dancing with the Titans, or perhaps an undercover mission. Their origin doesn't matter. He shakes his head and laughs when I mention them, and they fall around him, gilding him without touching him.

I have always seen him this way.

He is too perfect, too beautiful to be real. Yet the skin revealed as he peels away his uniform is flawed by ugly, irregular marks, echoes still slashing and stabbing and piercing this young Adonis.

Is this what I have done to him? My legacy carved into him, my young, proud soldier in a war which does not...which cannot end.

No. This _must_ end. I tell him he can no longer wear my badge...his badge...over his heart. He cannot fly again beneath my standard.

His laughter turns to fury, driving us apart. We are two, now, when once we were one. Angry, he reaches for me, joins our bodies now that we are separate.

We have not done this before.

I do not break, do not shatter at his touch. No, he _dismantles_ me, removing each part with loving care, until nothing is left but my soul. It is not my _body_ that breaks when I feel his lips against mine.

"This changes nothing," I say, and his eyes are wounded. But he says,

"I know."

Will he rebuild me again before he leaves? Will he leave me scattered (not broken), the pieces carefully laid out, awaiting his return?

I need him; I did not know how much. I did not know, I did not know, and the refrain sings in my head over and over as I watch him drive away.


End file.
